


Song of the Sea

by Leonardo_Charles_BlueWood_21



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Pirates, Angst, But they don't be attacking nothing lol, Does anybody actually say what they mean?, He just be confused, If You Squint - Freeform, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nino says: Heck it with your vague nonsense, POV Nino Lahiffe, Sirens, They be sailing, Unaddressed Magic, do not repost to another site, i guess, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:02:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25132075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leonardo_Charles_BlueWood_21/pseuds/Leonardo_Charles_BlueWood_21
Summary: Nino falls in love with the sea.And maybe also someone else.
Relationships: Félix (PV)/Nino Lahiffe, Nelix - Relationship
Comments: 6
Kudos: 12





	Song of the Sea

**Author's Note:**

  * For [newdog14](https://archiveofourown.org/users/newdog14/gifts).



> HELLO THERE. The story of how this came to be is as follows: I participated in a 100 word prompt challenge, Newsie said she'd totally read a whole fic of that - WHOOPS MY HAND SLIPPED - and here we are! So, HAPPY BIRTHDAY NEWSIE, THIS IS YOUR FAULT SO I'M USING IT AS YOUR PRESENT. (Better late then never!) (Though maybe I'm just early :P) ENJOY!

When Nino was young he found himself filled with wonder for the world and the want for adventure. 

One journey across the water was all it took for him to become enraptured with the pull of the waves under the stars; to fall in love with the spray of seawater against the side of the ship and the taste of salt on his lips.

His family never would have guessed it, with the way he quietly went about from day to day, but his heart ached for something more than what he had. It wasn’t as though life was lacking. In fact, life had been rather kind to him. He had a loving mother and father, they made enough to live comfortably and contentedly, and yet, as he grew, he could not shake the feeling that there was  _ more _ . 

  
  
  


When Nino was seventeen he met Alya, and for a time the wonder and adventure was satiated. They grew close, their families approved and things could not have been better. He was happy. 

Nino never would have pegged himself for a restless spirit and so it confused him every time he caught himself staring off at the horizon, at the stars, at the market stalls carrying goods from far away. He had a home, a family, someone who loved him, a steady source of income… What more could he possibly want? 

His distracted moments did not go unnoticed by his Fiancée. 

_ “ _ When you go, _ ” _ she said one evening as he stood watching the sunset, “I won’t wait here for you.” 

_ “ _ Go? “ he asked hesitantly, turning to her in confusion, “go where?”

She only looked at him, her face bathed in golden light and cupped his face in her hands, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead before returning inside and leaving him to his quiet confusion. 

He watched the sun until it completely vanished beyond the horizon and remained standing, staring at the night sky for a long time after that. 

  
  
  


It was another year before he realized what she had meant. 

He awoke in the middle of the night, uneasy, restless, wanting. 

He slipped out of bed and outside the house into the night air, intending to walk off the feeling as he had so many times before, his bare feet padding on the moonlit cobblestone street. 

He was strangely unsurprised when his name was called. He turned to see Alya, skirts swaying slightly in the cool breeze as she took quick light steps towards him. 

“I’m just going for a walk,” he told her as she approached, “I’ll be back.” 

She reached him and his brows furrowed as she pressed a knapsack and his fiddle’s case into his hands. Her breath brushed his lips as she leaned forward and whispered, “Goodnight Nino.” She pulled away, her eyes flickering across his face as if memorizing it for a moment... 

Then she turned and walked back the way she had come. 

He watched her for a long moment as she reached the road’s hilltop and She turned back as if sensing his gaze and stood, skirts fluttering around her ankles. She offered him a warm smile filled with understanding and what he later realized to be a goodbye. 

Then she vanished over the hill. 

  
  
  
  


“You looking for something, kid?” 

Nino turned away from the reflection of the moon in the water to see a weathered older man looking at him casually from where he sat on the docks a few feet away. 

Nino blinked once. Odd he hadn't noticed him. It was almost as if he had appeared out of thin air. 

“No,” Nino said, even as it tasted like a lie on his tongue. 

The man seemed to think so as well and huffed a laugh, “Ah, is that why you’re out walking well before sun up?” He gave a pointed look to the knapsack slung over his shoulder and the fiddles case in his hand. 

Nino opened his mouth to respond but found there wasn’t really anything he could think of to say. He couldn’t find it in him to defend himself from the man’s assumptions. He let his mouth close again and averted his eyes, turning back to the sea. 

The sound of lapping water and the smell of salt on the cool breeze was enough to make that oddly empty space in his chest swell if only slightly. 

“Aye, I see it now,” the man chuckled, drawing his gaze, “I’d recognize that look anywhere.” 

“What look?” Nino asked. 

He ignored the question and asked one of his own. “You any good with that fiddle of yours?” 

Nino could only nod.

“There’s an opening on my ship for you, if you’d like.” 

The waves lapped up against the wooden dock. 

He opened his mouth to tell the man that he had a life already, that he had someone he loved; that he was grateful for the offer but he was happy where he was. But the restless feeling settled in his chest and he knew he’d already made the decision a long time ago. 

“Okay,” he breathed. 

The Captain smiled. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


He realized it as the sun rose. 

The crew bustled around him, the first mate calling out orders as they pulled the gangplank up and rose the sails. 

Alya already knew. She’d known the moment he left the house he wouldn’t be coming back.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


There had never really been any question whether he would leave, was there? 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Nino’s first storm was spent below deck. 

It was hardly two days from port and the Captain told him over the roar of the wind and waves that he barely had his sea legs and they didn’t want him falling overboard before they got to hear him play. 

The Captain had been right about one thing, he could barely stand without being sent stumbling into the walls. 

The waves and rain and claps of thunder were so loud he couldn’t hear himself think. He found himself yelling back at the storm just so he could hear something other than the drumming of the rain, the beating of the waves and the shuddering crash of the thunder. 

By the time the storm ended four days later, Nino had his sea legs. 

  
  
  
  


The crew was composed of an odd bunch. Some were friendly, some were… less so. 

One of the crewmen - Ian Selvester, a scarred man with a good foot up on him in height - looked down at him for a long four seconds before laughing, “ _ You won’t last the trip. You’re too soft for the life of a sailor.” _

And…. yeah.

It was hard. 

It was the hardest thing he’d ever done. Most nights he would curl up in his designated hammock in the crews’ quarters, with his blistered hands, worn from long hours of gripping rope and mops and bailing buckets of water, and struggle to muffle his sobs.

Any skin that would be exposed during the day  _ burned _ and flaked off, raw and red and painful. 

The crew was a tight knit group and he was very much an intruder. 

Everything ached when he collapsed to sleep, from his hands to his heart. He’d never felt so alone in his life. Some nights he could barely breathe, but somehow he managed to stumble on deck every morning and complete the menial tasks presented to him. 

One breath at a time. 

One foot in front of the other. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“Morale is getting low,” the Captain told him about a month into the voyage, after pulling him away from coiling the spare ropes. “Think you’re up for playing tonight?” 

His sore fingers twitched at the prospect. 

The crew was giving them curious looks while trying and failing not to be too obvious about it.

“Yeah,” he finally said.

“I look forward to it,” the Captain nodded. 

  
  
  
  
  


That evening after the sun had begun to set and the air cooled, the crew gathered on deck. 

They didn’t really notice him as he came up from below decks, so he quietly headed over to the mast and retrieved his fiddle from it’s case, having tuned it before coming to join them on deck. 

One of the crewmates he was on good terms with, a man by the name of Joah Nelson - or Nelly Nelson as the crew called him - was the first to notice, doing a double-take when he realized what Nino was holding. Nino offered him a wry smile and began to play. 

All noise ceased for a moment and then someone gave a cheer that was followed quickly in a roaring sound of approval that caused a shiver up his spine. 

The sun set and the crew stomped their feet against the wooden boards of the deck and clapped along with the song, belting out the lyrics of the well known tune. 

The energy was contagious and Nino found himself dancing across the deck as he played, letting his own music and the voices of the men around him rattle in his bones. 

Eventually the crew began to peter off in groups of twos and threes, some choosing to return below decks and others sitting in the quiet of the night beneath the stars as the songs morphed into something slower and softer, until finally it was only Nino and the evening helmsman left on deck. 

He looked up at the night sky and played his soul to the sea alongside the sound of the waves and the twinkle of the stars well into the night. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The next day, he inhaled, squared his shoulders and walked on deck with his hands wrapped in fabric torn from an old shirt and asked Ian to teach him to sail. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Nino’s second storm was spent on deck, soaked and stumbling, yelling and straining to hear the others over the rain. It was something else entirely to be pelted by the icy drops, they hit his skin mercilessly until every part of him was tingling and numb. 

They lost a crewman and Nino played his fiddle for hours after the storm settled. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


After fifty-four days on the wooden planks of a ship, the ground seemed to tilt under him even as his feet were planted firmly on the ground. 

The harbor bustled with unfamiliar noise. It was such a strange contrast to the quiet of the waves against the ship's hull. 

“It’s always like this,” Ian said, coming up behind him. “You’ll get used to it.” 

“I feel like I’m going to fall over,” Nino said, looking down at his feet, his brows furrowed. The other man laughed, clapping him on the back and making him stumble. 

“Come on, plenty to unload, sailor.” 

  
  
  
  
  


They spent a few weeks onshore, the Captain, first mate and bookkeeper handling the business side of things, leaving them to enjoy their time on land and get into trouble. 

Nino had never been one for taverns or drinking, but there was something about the air inside the building when it was full of sailors. A feeling of mutual kinship and chaos that he had not felt anywhere else, walls filled to the brim with shanties and boisterous laughter.

He left the docks a week later with a split lip and a few bruises, but he couldn’t stop smiling. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Nino’s first encounter with pirates ended in the loss of his crewmates. 

Smoke and fire, the clashing of weapons, yells and gunshots. 

Through all the chaos and even as he fought for his life, all he could think was: 

_ I can’t hear the sea _ . 

He watched the ship go down from the deck of the pirates ship, arms bound behind him tightly, the cheers of victory all around him. 

They thrust him below deck, he and his fiddle set aside until they wished for entertainment. 

Time passed and the ropes seemed to tighten, but nothing could make his fingers as numb as his heart. 

  
  
  
  
  


He encountered his first myth no less than four days later. 

The singing was distant first, but steadily grew in volume, and all noise ceased above decks

He blacked out but was snapped back into consciousness by the screams, barely muffled by the wood of the ship. He scrambled backwards, away from the door he had been pressed up against, his fingertips bloody and torn with splinter; nails broken from clawing at the wood. 

The screams didn’t continue for very long and after they ceased Nino was left in a terrifying silence that steadily grew with the buzzing in his ears, suffocating him as he strained his ears to hear any sign of life or danger. 

The steady waves against the hull and the pounding in his ears were all he heard. 

  
  
  
  
  


He escaped the hold two days later and stumbled onto the deck, wrists raw and fabric scraps stuffed into his ears. 

In all the myths he’d heard of sirens they lured ships to their deaths among jagged rocks, he couldn’t understand how the ship had been spared. 

The sun beat down, endless ocean stretching in every direction, and no pirate or siren to be seen. 

He kept the fabric in his ears for another three days just to be safe. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


After about two weeks alone on the ship, Nino felt himself start to slip. There were plenty of previsions for one person, so food or water wasn’t a worry  _ yet _ , but the constant silence was suffocating. He found himself singing and yelling until his voice was hoarse just so he could breathe. 

His fiddle had somehow been destroyed, presumably in the siren attack and without it there was no music to accompany him and he was sure his singing was off tune more often than not, but pitch didn’t matter so much as volume did. Besides, the sea didn’t mind. 

The grief he felt for his crewmates nearly drowned him some days. He spent one morning simply taking the pirates flag and tearing it to pieces, throwing each individual scrap of fabric one by one into the sea. There was gold and jewels in the captain’s cabin that he almost threw into the sea as well, but he wasn’t sure how much used to belong to his Captain and couldn’t bring himself to simply dump it all overboard. 

  
  
  


In the end he settled for picking out every pearl and shell and returning them to the ocean. 

  
  
  
  


Steering a ship alone was endlessly challenging, but he continued to do everything he could to keep it headed in the direction of land. Occasionally he would be blown off course, not able to adjust the sails fast enough, being just one man, but finally,  _ finally _ , in the end of the fourth week alone, his sight was greeted with another ship on the horizon. 

He steered his ship in their direction and jumped and waved and screamed with what was left of his voice until he could see them change their course and prayed with everything in him to the sea that they would help him, or end things quickly. 

  
  
  


He pointed his pistol at the woman, clearly the captain of the vessel, to keep her from coming aboard. She looked younger than most of the captain’s Nino had encountered. Closer to his age. Much too young to be running her own ship, really.

Her crew had their firearms pointed at him from the moment he’d drawn his own. They were already on their guard. It would’ve been hard not to be suspicious of a ship with only one crewmember. 

The captain stopped, midway through stepping on the gangplank and raised her hands placatingly. “Easy, sailor,” she said softly as she unhooked his sword from his belt and laid it down to the side carefully, “you’ve clearly been through a lot, we only want to help.”

Nino couldn’t deny how his hands were shaking.

The captain signaled to her men and--although they seemed to hesitate--they lowered their firearms. 

“Permission to board your ship, sir?” the captain requested calmly, holding his gaze. 

Nino blinked, pistol lowering slightly. “It's not mine,” he croaked, voice hoarse. 

“You waved us over for help, yes?” 

He hesitated, then nodded. 

“Then let us help,” the captain said, looking at him intently, earnestly. 

Nino lowered his pistol. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


The captain listened attentively to his entire tale, and more surprisingly seemed to actually believe it. 

“You don’t think I’m crazy?” 

“I’ve heard crazier.” 

He didn’t have a response to that. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


They brought him back to port and he left without accepting any of the pirates gold.

“The ship and the gold is yours,” the captain told him. 

“I don’t want them,” he replied. 

She seemed to understand and gave him a pouch of silver coins instead, telling him to take some time to recover. 

  
  
  


He managed two days with his feet on solid ground before he headed to the tavern after the sun had set to find a ship that would be leaving port. The bartender directed him to three different possible recruiters and Nino found himself looking at the captain who’d retrieve him from the pirate’s ship. 

The woman’s eyes landed on him, and she did a double take, a surprised look coming over her face. Excusing herself from the table she sat at, she stood and approached Nino. “Didn’t expect to see you back out so soon,” she confessed upon reaching him, “most wouldn’t be eager to return to the sea after what you’ve been through.” 

Nino shrugged. 

The captain studied his face intently for a moment. Nino did his best to ignore her attention. 

“How’d you get your own ship, if you don’t mind me asking?” Nino inquired, if only to get her to stop staring. “You’re hardly look older than me.” 

The captain held his gaze for a moment before looking off across the tavern. “Got lucky I suppose. The previous captain took a liking to me when I was first starting as a cabin hand and ended up leaving his ship to me. It helps to have a good crew.” 

They fell into silence for a moment and there was an especially loud bout of laughter on the other side of the tavern. 

“It calls to you.” 

“What?” Nino asked, turning to look at her in confusion. 

“The sea,” the captain specified, “it calls to you.” 

Not a question, but Nino answered anyway. “Yeah.” 

“I’m looking for some extra hands,” she informed him, “and you're exactly the type of person I want on my ship.” 

“You want a crazy person on your ship?” he asked, humourlessly, and she laughed. 

“No, no,” she smiled, looking out amongst the boisterous tavern expression seeming almost sad.

“I want people who are in love with the sea.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Nino boarded the  _ Lady Luck  _ for the second time, trailing after the Captain with a new fiddle bought with a few silver coins in his hand, and freshly trimmed hair on his head. 

He was met with cautious looks, though none of the animosity he would have expected from a crew who’s captain he’d pointed a pistol at. There were some new faces that must have come aboard in the last couple of days, though they seemed to be familiar with the ship and crew so they must have been returning crewmembers. 

“Miss Césaire!” the Captain called as she strode forward onto her ship. “Nice to have you back with us. Would you please show Mister Lahiffe to the crew’s quarters and find him a place to sleep?” 

Nino’s head snapped up just as the crewmember turned around and he stared. 

“Alya?” 

  
  
  
  
  
  


“We could’ve gone together, you know.” 

The Captain had given them some privacy, allowing them to take a moment inside her cabin. It wasn’t nearly as lavious as he’d been expecting from the Captain of such a fine ship, but he appreciated the simplicity and his respect for her grew. 

“You really think that would’ve worked out?” Alya asked him softly. 

He might’ve wanted it to. But desiring something didn’t always make it possible, or true. 

He sighed a bittersweet smile resting on his lips. “I guess not.” 

They sat in silence looking at each other for a moment, and somehow or other they ended up smiling and laughing. 

“I love you Alya Césaire,” he told her fondly, their foreheads pressed together. 

“I love you Nino Lahiffe,” she said. 

Never in the same way they once had, but it made them smile all the same. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“We’re still friends right?” 

“Always.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The air of the  _ Lady Luck _ was something else entirely from his last ship. After their initial hesitation he was welcomed by most of the crew with open arms. A blonde crewmate took one look at him and turned her nose up to him before promptly ignoring him. 

“I wouldn’t worry about her too much,” the Captain reassured him, “she’s actually a decent person once you get to know her.” 

Nino took her word for it and kept his interactions with Chloé Bougiours as respectful and brief as possible. 

Most of the crew was a lot younger than he’d first realized, too absorbed in his own thoughts to really pay attention to anyone around him. 

They included him on occasion but left him to his own devices for the most part, which he appreciated. He’d spent quite a while alone and it was still a little strange to have people around. Sometimes he would head below deck just to give himself a break from the noise. 

There were a few louder, more boisterous crewmembers, but the title of  _ loudest _ he’d have to award to the brown haired blue-eyed Shaksperian actor of a man by the name of Claude Sainté-Pierre, who’s voice could rival thunder, he had no doubt. 

His favourite crewmember, he decided about a week after their initial departure from land, had to be Luka Couffiane. He was a man of few words and preferred playing his guitar to talking. Nino often found himself in his company when he needed to get away from the noise. He was a quiet reassuring presence to have and they even played a duet together once or twice. 

By the end of the first week, he knew most of their names and had met everyone on the ship. 

Or rather, he thought he had until a completely new face came storming out of the Captain’s quarters and he had to do a double take, thinking someone had managed to stow away. 

“AND HE LIVES!” Claude shouted from where he hung in the shrouds. The rest of the crew cheered, laughing, and he made his way down the ropes in hardly three seconds and bounded over to the pale, blond stranger’s side.

“That’s got to be a new record!” Claude grinned, throwing an arm over his shoulders and ignoring his clearly icy demeanor completely, “I haven’t seen you in, what, a week? Almost thought you were dead! Nice to see you haven’t kicked the bucket quite yet, Agreste.” 

The stranger just looked grimly resigned to his fate and Adrien came up behind him to ruffle his hair until it was just as messy as his own. 

The stranger rounded on him with a glare. “Do that again and I’ll throw you overboard.” 

“You couldn’t lift me if you tried, Fé,” Adrien grinned. 

“Careful,” Alix said, coming up from belowdecks, “Sunshine boy’s back again.” 

“Glad to see you’re still alive Broody McBroodster,” Allegra greeted from behind the crate she was carrying.

“I hate you all,” Broody McBroodster-Sunshine-boy-Agreste said. 

There was more talking but Nino tuned it out and went back to work. 

  
  
  
  
  


His name was Félix Agreste. He was the bookkeeper apparently. He spent more time in the Captain’s cabin than the Captain herself, going over maps and ship logs and doing goodness knows what else. 

Nino thought he looked a little pale and the dark circles under his eyes told tales of long sleepless nights, not to mention he looked like he might fall over if someone nudged him too hard. The rest of the crew seemed to respect him enough to give him space - excluding Adrien and Claude, who seemed to have their minds set on invading his personal space as much as possible - so maybe he was tougher than he looked. 

Despite the circles under his eyes, he was far from unsightly. He had an ethereal quality to him, especially under the moonlight, when the cool blue reflecting off the sea would make his skin glow and seem almost transparent as Nino discovered one evening when he’d glimpsed the man leaning against the ship’s railing and staring out across the water. 

Honestly his appearance was something that Nino expected a fea or a siren to look like. Come to think of it, everyone on the  _ Lady Luck _ was strangely attractive. He wondered at times if it was all some sort of dream. 

His wariness grew the longer they went without a storm. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


Nino played his fiddle for the crew for the first time on a sunny afternoon, amidst the calm waves and cool breeze they had been graced with. 

Luka had arrived on deck, playing his guitar and an encouraging smile and nod had Nino scampering belowdecks to retrieve his own instrument. 

The first members of the crew dancing were Claude, Adrien, and the Captain herself. The others joined in quickly until nearly everyone was dancing. 

Nino couldn’t stop his foot from tapping and his body swaying to the beat of their boots and the sound of their laughter. 

A circle was created around Claude and Allegra as they danced in a seemingly effortless unison, boots and bare feet stamping against the wood as they twirled in a dance that settled in his soul as something of complete trust and partnership. 

They ended in a dip, forehead to forehead and it didn’t take much to close the distance between them in a soft kiss that made the crew roar in approval. 

The dancing continued for the duration of the afternoon and Nino couldn’t keep the smile off his face. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The storm he’d been looking for finally came in the form of a pitch black flag fluttering in the wind atop the approaching ship on the horizon and a twisting feeling in his stomach. 

“Can you fight?” the Captain asked him, dark ocean blue eyes cold as steel. 

Nino gave one firm nod. 

“Then prepare to defend the ship Mister Lahiffe.” 

“PREPARE FOR BATTLE!” Claude roared. 

  
  
  
  
  


The crew of the  _ Lady Luck _ fought with savage fire that made Nino second guess whether or not they were really human. 

He knocked an attacker’s pistol from their hand just moments before they were able to fire it and slammed the piece of splintered wood from the broken railing into the side of their head hard enough to knock them out and over the side of the ship. 

Clashes and yells and gunshots rang out around him. Smoke was starting to cloud the deck coming from somewhere. He ducked a sword and stumbled forward, coughing, to find the source before the damage became irreparable. 

He dodged more attackers and kept himself low to the ground so others wouldn’t notice him before bolting belowdecks to where the smoke was originating. 

He was met by four murderous faces. 

They surged forward and he hurled a punch and kicked, flailing before they overpowered him and a blow caught him in the head hard enough that everything started spinning and his feet were as unsteady as before he’d gotten his sea legs. 

They knocked him over and he looked up at them dazed as they loomed over him, weapons raised. 

He managed to think it was rather poetic that he was joining his first crew in the theme of death by pirates, then there was a solid  _ thwack _ and one of the men dropped revealing the ships bookkeeper behind him, expression carved from ice, a solid wooden staff gripped in his hands. 

The remaining three barely had a chance to retaliate. 

The staff swirled in a deadly arch, knocking their weapons out of their hands, blocking their attempted blows and finally slamming into them hard enough to rattle their eyes in their skulls and send them crashing to the floor, all within seven seconds. 

Nino looked up at him, wide eyed. 

“What?” Félix asked sharply, looking down at him. 

“You’re the  _ bookkeeper _ ?” he managed incredulously. 

Félix bristled, his face turning red and scowled at him. “Just get up and help me put out the fire, fiddle-boy.” 

Nino scrambled to his feet as fast as humanly possible, not wanting to anger the staff wielding bookkeeper and followed him to the fire. 

It was rather small considering how much smoke it was producing and they managed to extinguish it quickly, throwing blankets over it and stomping it out. 

They arrived back on deck, coughing and covered in soot, to the cheers of the crew as the pirates fled on their sinking ship. 

Nino watched them sail away, a breathless stillness settling in him as the crew celebrated around him. 

They won. 

Huh…

  
  
  
  
  


There were a few injuries and repairs to be made, but miraculously they didn’t lose a single soul. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Lucky… 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Nino was convinced his crewmates were magic. 

No, really,  _ Magic _ . Like, _ secretly-sirens-or-mermaids _ or  _ something, _ kind of magic. 

Every single one of them could fight, they were all young and beautiful - how the  _ heck  _ did  _ he _ end up on this ship? - and the most recent revelation was that they could all sing  _ incredibly well _ . 

Nino’s voice wasn’t half bad. It wasn’t amazing but he could carry a tune and sometimes he thought his own humming sounded quite nice. Compared to the crew of the  _ Lady Luck _ however, he might as well be a bleating goat. 

They sang like the sea. Every one of them. The first time he heard them he’d dropped the bucket he had been holding. Luka had looked at him strangely and he’d made an excuse before fleeing below deck to deal with the icy feeling that had spread throughout his limbs. 

He’d sounded almost  _ exactly _ like the sirens.

It had taken him quite a while to head back above deck. 

The memory of the screams of those pirates and the songs sung while they died had him waking up in a cold sweat some nights. If it weren’t for his past experience he might’ve enjoyed their singing. 

His only solace was Alya. He  _ knew _ she was human. He’d known her all his life -unless the Alya on the ship was a shapeshifting doppelganger, of course. 

Nino tried not to think too hard about that. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


An actual storm finally did hit and he fell overboard. 

Someone had lost hold on the ropes, visibility was a thing of the past, the deck was wet and slippy - one thing led to another, he was knocked off his feet and plummeting off the side of the ship and into the ocean. 

It hit icy cold and vicious, dragging him under with churning mercilessness. Water forced its way into his lungs and he broke the surface coughing. 

The sea was all he could hear, roaring before it folded on top of him and dragged him under again. 

The salt burned his throat and eyes and lungs. 

Drowning hurt. 

And then it didn’t. 

  
  
  
  


He coughed up more water than he ever would have thought possible when he snapped back into consciousness. His body was shaking, water was still splashing around him, thunder sounding in great roaring rumbles and he could feel the rain continuing to sting his skin. 

There was a hand resting between his shoulders and he let his arms give out from under him and rolled onto his back, letting himself breathe, freezing raindrops landing on his face. 

Félix watched him with sharp, wary eyes, water dripping from soaked hair as he breathed heavily. 

Nino wondered how he could possibly be alive. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


He decided not to ask. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


He woke up in the middle of the night, breathing laboured and an icy chill of panic spreading across his back. The dark lighting of the crew’s quarters was suffocating and for one terrifying moment, he couldn’t tell which was way up.

He left his hammock, doing his best not to wake his crewmates and snatched his fiddle on his way above decks. 

The cool air hit him harder than usual and he stumbled slightly, leaning heavily against the ship's railing, allowing himself a moment to catch his breath and adjust to the cooler temperature. 

He shivered once then made his way over to the mast, sitting down, letting his legs cross as he did so. 

He breathed in the fresh air for a few full moments then retrieved his fiddle and ever so slowly and softly...

He played for the sea. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


On the fifth night of his late (early?) concerts, he was joined by Félix, much to his surprise. 

The man simply sat down next to him without words, opened his book and began to write, not even sparing him a glance. 

Nino... wasn’t really sure how to react. 

So he kept playing. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“You’re an odd one, Lahiffe,” his impromptu companion said on their third night, finally breaking the silence. 

“Thanks,” 

“Still in love with the sea after it almost killed you.”

“I guess so.” 

Félix let out a long controlled exhale as he looked up at the stars. “Weirdo.” 

Nino laughed. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


“Do you sleep in here?” Nino found himself asking, looking around the Captain’s cabin. 

He had been wondering for a while where Félix spent his nights. He’d never seen him in the crew’s quarters and there were no other spare hammocks. 

Félix glanced up from the book he was scribbling in for a moment, eye’s flicking to the plate held in Nino’s hands before he looked back down and went back to writing. “Yes.” 

Nino’s brows furrowed as he set the plate of food down on the desk, doing his best not to disturb any of the chaos of books and papers. The crew had been sending him to give Félix his meals for the past few weeks, saying something about how he was the least likely to have his head bitten off for interrupting. He couldn’t understand why they might think that. They barely knew each other. Most of their time spent together was in silence. 

“Oh,” he managed. He glanced around the room again, noting the fact that there was one bed. 

“Are you and the Captain…. Uh….” 

Félix looked at him and Nino froze, heat rushing to his cheeks. 

“A rather personal question, Mister Lahiffe,” Félix said, raising an eyebrow. 

Nino spluttered trying to apologize, ears burning as Félix turned back to his work. 

“No.” 

Nino stopped and blinked once. 

No? 

“Oh,” said Nino. 

“Is that all, Mister Lahiffe?” 

Nino snapped out of whatever thoughts he’d been having and straightened up, embarrassment still colouring his cheeks, “I uh, yes, that’s all. I’ll… uh, leave you to your - your - yeah.” 

The scratch of Félix’s quill followed him out of the room as he cursed himself for blurting out such a question. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


He wondered why he felt compelled to ask in the first place. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Nino was playing softly in the twilight of the morning when he felt a sudden weight pressed against his shoulder. 

He looked over to see Félix slumped against him, breathing softly, his book still open on his lap. 

He huffed at him with a fond smile and pulled the blanket he’d brought with him off his lap and carefully maneuvered it so that it was wrapped around Félix’s shoulders snuggly, doing his best not to jostle the sleeping bookkeeper. He then carefully took the book and marked the page with the slip of paper laying off to the side. 

It was a little hard to play his fiddle with someone laying on his arm, so he set it back in his case and slumped back against the mast, exhaling and letting himself relax. 

That was enough playing for one night he decided. 

He hardly noticed when sleep claimed him. 

  
  
  
  


He did however notice when Claude’s obnoxiously loud whispering started. 

Félix jerked awake at the same time as him and they stared at each other for a moment, surprised. 

“Awww,” Adrien cooed, “you two are so cute!” 

Félix was on his feet in an instant storming back to the Captain’s cabin, book in hand and a red tinge to his ears that Nino could see even as he walked away. 

Not that he was doing any better. 

He wasn’t even sure why he was embarrassed. 

It’s not like they meant to fall asleep. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


He couldn’t help being a little unsettled when Adrien wouldn’t stop beaming at him for the next three days. 

Even the Captain was looking at him with an amused twinkle in her eye. 

This was one weird ship. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


They arrived at port and unload their cargo quickly. 

The Captain had business to attend to and gave them two weeks to entertain themselves on land. 

The rest of the crew went their separate ways, hollering goodbyes and promising to meet there before they cast off. 

Nino felt a little lost. 

He lingered by the docks, watching the sea. 

“What are you still doing here?” a voice inquired making his heart leap into his throat. He spun around to see Félix looking at him with an annoyed expression. 

Nino blinked. “Uh…” he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, “I… don’t know?” 

“You can stand to be away from the sea for a couple of days,” Félix told him, looking out across the water, the wind catching his hair slightly, ruffling it. Nino had the strangest urge to run his fingers through it. 

“Everyone kinda… paired off…” he started haltingly, then sighed and confessed, “I’m not really familiar with this port and I haven’t actually… had this much time alone on land since I started sailing.” 

Félix pursed his lips as he considered Nino’s confession. 

“You could join the Captain and I,” he offered stiffly, “we’ll be busy for most of the days, but if you want company in the evenings…” 

Nino felt something swell oddly in his chest at the offer. “Okay.” 

Félix looked genuinely surprised. “Really?” 

“What can I say?” Nino shrugged, turning back out to sea. “You’re good company.” 

They stood side by side on the docks watching the sea in the silence of the waves and background ambience for a while longer. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Félix and the Captain had an interesting dynamic and Nino was never sure what to think of their relationship. 

Félix had said that there wasn’t anything going on between them, but they did seem extremely close. He felt a bit as though he was intruding during the week he was in their company, although neither of them seemed to mind him being there.

He spent his free time during the day wandering the shops near the docks and playing his fiddle in the streets. He left an empty can on the ground a few feet in front of him for spare coins if any should be so inclined to drop any in. He didn’t necessarily  _ need _ them, but he felt it was a little strange to be playing without it. 

He used the coins that he earned to purchase a small necklace with a silver chain and a stone that he later realized was the same colour as Félix’s eyes. 

The jewel became a constant in his pocket and he would occasionally take it out at night and watch how it caught the moon’s light. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Claude, Allegra and Luka didn’t arrive before their departure date and they cast off without them. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


It was quiet without Claude’s loud voice and Luka’s melodies. Nino was genuinely unsettled and maybe a little bit worried as well. 

Félix sat down next to him under the stars wordlessly and listened for a little while as Nino played. 

“They’ll find their way back,” Félix said suddenly, “they always do.” 

“People leave here often, do they?” Nino hummed. 

“You’d be surprised,” Félix said softly, “but like I said, they always find their way back.” 

Reassuring. Maybe a bit ominous. 

Nino decided to take it as reassuring. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


A navy ship appeared on the horizon in the middle of their journey. 

The Captain ordered them to remain alert as she and the captain of the naval fleet that surrounded them went to discuss things in his office. 

Nino didn’t like the Captain being taken off their ship. The crew lounged around on deck, looking the pinnacle of relaxed and unconcerned but the air surrounding them was almost more dangerous and tense than when they had fought the pirates. 

Félix was really the only one who looked agitated, pacing back and forth on deck muttering to himself. 

The Captain returned a few hours later and they set sail immediately, leaving the naval fleet behind them. 

The Captain and Félix disappeared into her cabin for the next few days. 

Nino wondered. 

But he didn’t ask. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Fall moved in, but he didn’t stop playing on the deck at night and Félix didn’t stop joining him either, even when they ended up huddled under several blankets, their faces pink from the cold. 

“What are you going to do for winter?” Félix asked in the softness of the sunrise, warmth beginning to chase away the chill. 

Nino looked at him questioningly. 

“We won’t sail during the winter.” 

“Oh,” Nino said, trailing off, “ I… haven’t really thought about it.” He glanced up at the receding stars. “I guess I’ll go find a ship that does.” 

Félix huffed, muttering something under his breath. 

“What about you?” Nino found himself asking. Félix looked at him. “Where will you go?” 

“Where I usually go,” he answered. 

He didn’t elaborate any further. 

Nino’s fingers plucked at the stings of his fiddle filling the crisp air with a tune to match the chill. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Winter came as they reached port. 

Snow started to fall and Nino paused unloading the cargo to watch it. 

Félix stood discussing something with the Captain over one of his books as snowflakes floated down into his hair and clung to his eyelashes.

He looked away before anyone could catch him staring. 

  
  
  
  


The crew said their goodbyes, Alya and a few others hugging the Captain tightly before departing. 

Nino stood in front of Félix, words caught in his throat. 

“I’ll see you in the spring,” Félix nodded cooly. 

Nino swallowed, but could only nod back. 

He watched him and Adrien disappear into the crowded town and stood gazing at nothing for a long time after. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Winter sailing was a different kind of difficult, completely unlike summer weather, or even stormy weather sailing. Keeping warm was a challenge and he went to sleep each night preparing not to wake up in the morning. He didn’t enjoy it, but it kept him close to the sea so he continued lingering by the ships making voyages across the freezing water throughout the icy season. Most of them were transporting supplies to towns and villages across the coast that had been hit hardest by the snow. 

The ocean was different in winter, Nino was sure he saw something cutting through the icy water several times throughout his voyages, but it was barely a glimpse at the churning waters below him, so he couldn’t say for certain if it was a trick of the light or something else entirely. 

Part of him wondered what kind of mythical creatures came to light during the winter season of the sea but he wasn’t sure he wanted to find out. He avoided looking over the side of the ship, keeping his head down, gaze fascened to his task even as he felt eyes on him. 

The nights were too cold to continue his late night melodies, and his fingers were too stiff to play anyways, so he tucked his fiddle in a safe place and wrapped in blankets, hoping the dropping temperature wouldn’t damage it too much. Luckily his nightmares let up, his mind and body seemingly too exhausted to bother with dreaming, a welcome relief really. 

He found the people willing to sail in the winter months to be consistent, faces becoming familiar as he jumped from ship to ship. Occasionally he would run into someone from a ship or two ago or end up back on a ship that he’d been on before. The crewmembers were rougher than that of  _ the Lady Luck _ due to the harsh season they sailed in. Anyone who wasn’t didn’t last long. They were either lost to the cold or hightailed back to land after the first trip. Oddly enough, no one seemed surprised when Nino lasted through the winter. 

The water remained largely unfrozen despite the occasional spread of ice and frigid temperature. The one time it did freeze over they spent the next two weeks with pickaxes and various tools chipping away at the ice throughout the day and night to provide the ship with an escape. 

Nino hardly remembered those thirteen days, everything much too numb as he and the crew broke the ice away piece by piece, fighting for their lives before the sea could completely freeze over around them and sentence them to an icy death. 

When they finally broke free, three crewmates down and two weeks behind schedule, Nino’s voice joined the others as they  _ roared _ , screaming and stomping their feet on the deck of the ship. A few sailors lost their footing or maybe simply collapsed in relief and finally succumbed to their exhaustion. Nino hadn’t realized he was one of them until he awoke three days later below deck, aching and sore, the feeling taking him back to his first months at sea, the healer hovering over him and the twelve others that had given out. 

He laughed, startling the healer, then promptly fell back asleep. 

He remained below decks for another day before the need for more crew pulled him out of his hammock, fever and all, and he was back amongst the rigging and ice, giving another sailor a much needed opportunity to sleep. Somehow he managed to stay on his feet for the rest of the voyage, even as his crewmates dropped like flies. It wasn’t until they spotted land that Nino allowed himself to collapse again. 

When they finally docked all but two of the crew spent the next three weeks on land with high fevers. Nino’s nightmares returned with vengeance as he remained lingering on the edge of consciousness, dreams and reality blending together in a blurry muffled mess. 

Eventually his fever broke and he was released from the doctor's care. 

He lingered by the docks, nose numbing from the cold, even as he pulled his scarf up over it. The freezing waves occasionally crashed against the docks hard enough to send up a spray of icy water onto him. The water churned, dark and deep, and his fingers tightened around his fiddles’ case. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


He managed a full week before he was back on a ship, thinking that maybe he was a little bit crazy. 

  
  
  


  
  


  
  
  
  
  


By the time the ice melted Nino was back at the port where the _ Lady Luck _ had remained throughout the winter. Somehow he was still alive despite his apparent death wish. 

It was just the Captain there when he arrived and they spent a great deal of time in each other’s company as they waited for the remainder of the crew to join them. 

They trickled in over the next month, there were a few new faces that Nino had not seen before, but the rest of the crew seemed to know. Introductions were made, the Captain had recruited two women, Juleka and Rose, who could not be more different then their counterpart but never left the other’s side… And Nino waited, fiddling with the stone that had hung around his neck throughout the winter season. 

Adrien arrived with no bookkeeper in sight and they set sail the next day. 

Nino watched the port recede into the distance, necklace clutched in his hand. 

“He had a matter to attend to.” 

Nino almost jumped at the abrupt voice and his head snapped to look at Adrien who was standing next to him. 

The sound of the crew’s jovial conversation hummed behind them. 

The man offered him an understanding smile, “he’ll find his way back,” he told him before looking out over the sea. “He always does.” 

Nino glanced back to where Claude and Allerga were dancing across the deck to music only they could hear. 

“Ominous,” Nino found himself saying, aloud this time. 

Adrien laughed, bumping their shoulders together, “but reassuring.” 

Nino huffed a laugh, looking back out over the sea. “Yeah.” 

“Come on,” Adrien nudged him, “They could use some music, how’s your fiddle doing?” 

“Been a while.” 

“We’ll now’s a good time as any to be reacquainted.” 

Nino gave one more glance to the endless stretch of ocean surrounding them, land long since out of view, then went to retrieve his fiddle. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


They were stopped by navy ships four times, each visit growing a little more hostile, though Nino could never find it in himself to ask  _ why _ . 

The Captain got increasingly agitated by it. Seething and stomping to her cabin once the navy ships were out of sight in a way that was reminiscent of Félix's usual reaction to their visits. 

The fifth time it happened, Nino found himself keeping an eye on the ships as warily as the rest of the crew. He did his best to mirror their convincing relaxed act, but he wasn’t sure he succeeded. 

“Mr. Laffie,” the Captain’s voice cut through Nino’s thoughts, sharp and commanding and his head shot up to look at her, startled. “On me.” 

“Aye, Captain,” Nino’s mouth said automatically, halfway across the boarding plank before his brain even properly registered the command. His steps faltered once when his brain caught up to him, but he didn’t stop. 

She never even let  _ Félix _ accompany her, and the man certainly would have preferred to. Why allow Nino? Why now? 

A hand on his chest stopped him and he looked at the man in uniform who was keeping him from setting foot on the navy’s ship.

“No weapons,” he glared at him accusingly, hostility radiating from him. 

“He doesn’t carry weapons,” the Captain said calmly, though he could see the dangerous glint in her eyes. “ He’s my ship’s musician. Now, if you would kindly take your hand off my crew member, I have matters to discuss with your captain.” 

The man scowled, giving Nino an almost seething once over, but did as she asked, stepping away and allowing Nino to follow her onto the ship. 

Nino kept his eyes ahead on the Captain’s jacket collar and ignored the eyes that followed them. 

The navy captain’s cabin was… lavish. Nothing like Captain Marinette’s quarters, though he supposed navy ships in general were rather ornate to begin with. He tried to keep from shifting uncomfortably amongst the pristine uniforms, spotless curtains and polished wood. He felt like he might be tracking dirt in with him and barely resisted the urge to glance behind him to check. 

The navy captain greeted as they entered, his men filling in behind them, effectively blocking their exit. His smile was friendly but there was no warmth in his eyes. 

Captain Marinette sat across from the man and Nino stood behind her, close to her left side keeping his face as impassive as he could while they spoke. 

There was a lot he didn’t quite understand. The underlying atmosphere of animosity made it hard to think. They two of them danced around words, never really saying anything outright, merely implying and letting the other draw their own conclusion. A rather roundabout way of conducting a meeting, Nino thought. It would have been easier for them to simply say what they meant. 

Nino left the meeting, trailing after the Captain, more confused than when he had arrived, wordless threats and meaningless phrases tumbling through his mind in a mushed jumble. Maybe that’s why she brought him along, because she knew he wouldn’t understand a thing they said. The political side of things had never been his strong suit. 

The Captain continued to stand on deck, watching the navy ships until they were out of sight, the tension in the air remaining and keeping the crew near-silent as they sailed away. Nino remained at her side, having yet to be dismissed. 

The Captain turned abruptly, startling Nino, spinning on her heel and starting towards her cabin. “Mister Laffie, if you would,” she said as she passed him. He stumbled, hurrying after her and feeling the crew’s immensely curious eyes on him as he followed the Captain to her cabin. 

She sat down heavily in the chair at the desk and for a moment Nino thought she might be a lot older than she looked. 

He remained standing and waited in silence. After a few minutes, he couldn’t help but shift a little on his feet and she finally glanced up at him. 

“Captain,” he prompted, after a moment. The unspoken,  _ Are you okay, _ wasn’t really something he knew how to ask her, or if it would offend her if he did, but his tone probably revealed his concern anyway. 

“I hate to ask this of you,” she started, exhaustion hanging off of her, “ but I would prefer that anything you heard remained between us.” 

“You have my word Captain,” Nino promised and she relaxed ever so slightly. “Though, to be fair, I couldn’t really understand anything anyway.” The confession made out of honesty, or maybe in an attempt to lighten the mood. 

Her searing blue eyes flicked up, pinning him in place.“Couldn’t, or didn’t want to?” 

He really didn’t have anything to say to that. 

“Thank you,” she said quietly. “I appreciate it.” 

He shifted. “Why me?” 

“I trust you,” she said, eyes studying him in a way that made him question whether or not she really did. “You aren’t motivated by greed to be here.” 

“And the others are?” 

A smile quirked at the corner of her lips. “No. Though Claude couldn’t keep a secret to save his life.” 

“Is that what this is? A secret?” 

She hummed. 

“Why?” 

“It only concerns those who are on this ship,” she murmured. “There is no reason to stress those who are away more often than they stay.”

“They always come back,” Nino found himself needing to say.

Her gaze returned to him, head tilting in a somewhat contemplative way and he abruptly felt like he’d said something he shouldn’t have. Her eyes finally released him, dropping to the side.“That they do,” she murmured, almost to herself.

He swallowed, feeling a little unsteady, a strange feeling to have while on a ship after his time. 

As if sensing his unease, the Captain straightened up, turning away from him and towards her desk, a bigger disaster than it usually was when Félix was in charge of bookkeeping and picked up a stack of papers and a quill before nodding to him. “Dismissed.” 

The crew was waiting for him once he stepped out. He dodged their questions and a few attempts of slinging arms over his shoulders, (courtesy of Claude,) instead scaling to the crows nest, his fiddle in hand and played over the sound of the crew and the waves beneath him. 

Eventually they let him be after he ignored them for several hours and he was free to simply sort through his thoughts. 

Someone must have talked to the rest of the crew, whether it was the Captain herself, or perhaps Claude or Adrien, because when he returned to the deck they gave him space, though he did catch a few sideways glances and curious looks. 

Nino’s nightmare that night involved an unsettling mix of sirens and the navy, overlapping until he wasn’t sure which was the greatest threat. He wordlessly played to the sea, letting his thoughts flow out of them without really grasping anything, simply allowing them to swirl out into the gradually lightening sky. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Nino caught the flash of a scaled tail in the water one evening and spent the night trying to convince himself that he’d imagined it. 

  
  
  
  
  


The weeks passed and he fell into a routine. Sailing, spending a few days on land, sailing again, usually with the  _ Lady Luck _ , though there were occasionally times that the ship’s stops were a tad too long for his liking and he’d hitch a ride with another ship. 

  
Somehow he’d always manage to find his way back as if drawn by an unseen force. He wondered if it was him finding the ship or the ship finding him. 

His nightly concerts were oddly lonely without Félix’s company and he tried not to think about his absence too much, unconsciously fiddling with the stone around his neck, a glint of colour when the nights seemed especially dark. 

  
  
  
  
  


The navy finally started to leave them alone, Nino still wasn’t sure what that had all been about, but sailing was easier without the unspoken threat lingering over them.

When next he was on land he heard gossip of storms swallowing up navy ships. The people speculated a possible curse in the light of the misfortune that had come upon the armada, perhaps they had desturbed a sea god and were suffering the consequences. 

  
  
  
  


Blue skies stretched across the  _ Lucky Lady’s _ journey, bright and warm and Nino wondered. 

  
  
  
  


Months passed, he had his bow rehaired, bought a new pair of boots even though he only ever wore them onland, preferring to spend most of his time on deck barefoot. He wrote a few songs that he tested out first under the cover of night then in the presence of the cew. They didn’t seem particularly averse to his original works, and they were mainly for listening to rather than dancing to so he played them mostly in the evenings. 

  
  
  
  


He felt the chill and absentmindedly picked at the ever present stone around his neck. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Winter returned. 

  
  
  
  


Félix did not. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Nino spent the icy season with Adrien near the coast. 

It was… strange. To spend so much time away from the sea. Certainly not something he was familiar with. It had been nearly two years since he’d spent more than a month or two on land. 

It was comforting to be able to look out the window and see the waves, but he never did quite get used to waking up without the sway of a ship under his feet, sometimes stumbling and tripping over nothing. When the longing rose achingly in his chest, he’d walk down to the beach, Adrien accompanying him more often than not, and sat by the docks, letting the water hit his legs until his toes were worryingly numb and Adrien convinced him to come back inside. 

“How’d you even manage to survive last winter? It’s like you don’t know how to take care of yourself. Come back inside before your toes fall off - ” 

Adrien became his dearest friend. It was almost strange how they clicked together, as though they’d been friends for years. Nino couldn’t even imagine not having Adrien as a close confidant, he wondered how he’d ever gotten along without him. They had a similar sense of humour, and spent many a late night exchanging stories and telling tales and simply keeping each other company in the quiet evenings. Adrien even convinced him to write a letter to his family. It had been far too long since he’d left and, although he wasn’t sure if they would answer him, he felt a weight of his shoulders that he hadn’t realized he’d been carrying once the letter had been sent. 

The winter was one of the best of his life, filled with warmth and laughter and friendship. 

Even so, he was still packed and ready to leave at the first sign of icicles melting, ready to return to the sea. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Nino approached the docks, fiddle case slung over his shoulder, worn boots scuffing against the wet wood and a relieved smile spreading across his face as the  _ Lady Luck _ came into view. 

Adrien walked beside him, chattering about small things, old stories and experiences, making him laugh and smile as he’d occasionally chat back, responding to some of the truly outlandish tales his dear friend had to tell. 

He was watching him animatedly describe the time he had stolen a great deal of coin from a captain and proceeded to skip town on the very same captain’s ship, only to be found just as land came into sight, when his friend stopped short, a beaming smile exploding across his face as he saw something ahead of them. “Félix!” he yelled, and as he bolted forward, Nino’s head snapped in the direction he was headed, eyes skimming across unfamiliar faces until they landed on Félix. 

He looked good. Nearly exactly the same as Nino remembered save for his hair which seemed to have grown a bit longer and was pulled back into a ponytail to keep the worst of it out of his eyes. He stood near the Captain, knapsack over his shoulder, a small smile on his face as Adrien barreled into him. Nino could hear the laughter that resulted from where he was standing, feet rooted to the ground as he stared.

The Captain catching his eye and raising an eyebrow was all that got him moving again. He managed to keep his steps from faltering as he approached, heart much too big for his chest, unsure why he was feeling so apprehensive, it was just Félix. 

He stopped a few paces away, not wanting to interrupt the brother’s reunion. Adrien said something, but Nino’s attention was elsewhere. Félix looked up and he was pinned in place by his gaze. Eyes just as vibrant as the stone he wore around his neck greeted him and left him breathless. 

Félix’s eyes flicked over him, skimming over each of his limbs as though checking to make sure he was still in one piece and ceasing only when they caught on something, lingering on the centre of his chest so intently that Nino found himself looking down to see what had captured his attention. 

The familiar glint of the stone that hung around his neck peeked out from his shirt’s fastenings, catching the mid-morning light. His face felt abruptly hot as he looked back up at Félix who was blatantly staring at him now, something calculating in his gaze. The heat gradually crept to cover the back of his neck. 

“Mister Laffie,” Félix greeted with a nod, eyes studying him intently, almost hesitating in the way they darted across his face. 

“Félix,” Nino contered, meeting his eyes again and mirroring his tone. 

A hesitant smile quirked at the corner of the man’s lips. 

Nino attempted to stomp down the elation that was threatening to rise in his chest at the sight of the smile but he wasn’t quite able to keep his grin at bay. 

Somehow he couldn’t find it in himself to care. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


There wasn’t much time for talking after that. They set sail immediately, Adrien and Nino having arrived just in time to catch the ship’s departure. Nino found his attention taken completely by the ropes and sails as they cast off and by the time they were on their way, he’d lost sight of Félix. He craned his neck, looking over the heads of his crewmates attempting to spot him to no avail. He could only assume he vanished into the Captain’s cabin, or perhaps was catching up with Adrien belowdecks. 

He busied himself with taking stock of the ship, making sure everything was in place despite knowing the Captain would not have set sail if it were not. It never hurt to double check. 

He was relieved to stumble across Luka, who introduced Juleka as his sister. Nino would have found it quite the coincidence that they had both been drawn to the same ship if it weren’t for the fact Alya was currently in the crow’s nest. 

The rest of the day passed by rather slowly, he spent most of it with Alya. There wasn’t any rush to greet anyone since there would be plenty of time to catch up during the coming months. He ended up pacing in front of the Captain’s door three times before withdrawing and cursing his cowardice as Alya cackled at him. 

“You really are hopeless,” she snorted. 

He huffed, plopping down next to her amidst the coiled ropes and folding his arms over his chest. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he grumbled. 

The knowing smile on her face didn’t dampen in the slightest and she raised an amused eyebrow. “Just go knock. They both like you, they won’t be mad and they’ve had plenty of time to discuss things the last three weeks Félix has been here so it’s not like you’ll be interrupting anything.”

Nino shrugged noncommittally. “There’s no rush, I’ll have plenty of time to talk to him later.” 

“But you _ want  _ to talk to him  _ now _ ,” she smirked, nudging him with her elbow and wiggling her eyebrows. 

Nino sighed and flopped back against the ropes, turning his face up to the bright blue sky. He did want to talk to him, odd, wasn’t it? “Maybe,” he murmured. 

“Goodness, you’re taking longer to confess to  _ him _ than you did to  _ me. _ ” 

The blush that exploded across his face  _ burned _ and he sat back up again, spluttering. “What--I’m not--that’s not--I’m not  _ confessing  _ anything! There’s nothing to confess!” 

She gave him an unimpressed look. 

“There’s not!” he threw his hands into the air. 

“Don’t think I don’t see that Félix’s-eye-coloured-rock hanging around your neck right now, Nino Laffie,” she scolded him. 

He slapped his hand over the stone, feeling oddly betrayed by it. “It’s the colour of the sea!” he managed to choke out.

“Whatever you say,” Alya said, looking away to hide her smirk. 

  
  
  
  
  


Nino promptly took it upon himself to avoid Alya entirely for the rest of the day. Not an easy feat, but he managed. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


Night fell and he didn’t even bother to head below deck, instead settling in his usual spot, crossing his legs and playing softly so as not to disturb his crewmates. 

He opened his eyes at the sound of footsteps and was greeted by the sight of Félix lingered a distance away, clearly hesitating as he stood stiffly. Despite his clear discomfort, he was as beautiful as ever. If Nino didn’t know any better he’d say his skin was glowing under the full moon’s light, the almost translucent quality mesmerizing to look at. 

“Still doing this, huh?” Félix said, glancing at the ship’s bow before fastening his eyes to Nino’s. 

“Yup,” he replied, holding his gaze. 

Félix huffed and strode forward, plopping down next to him as he scooted to the side to make room for him. He leaned back against the mast with an exhale, tipping his head up to look at the stars, eyelashes fluttering as he blinked. Nino didn’t bother to pull his gaze away from him, allowing himself to study the profile of his face, the slope of his nose, the shape of his lips, the sharp angle of his jaw. 

“I missed this,” Félix breathed. 

“I missed  _ you, _ ” Nino found himself saying.

Félix looked at him and Nino held his gaze. The admission seemed to echo in the space between them, like a secret torn open and exposed to the air, something that had been wordless and nameless until he’d dared voice it out loud. 

Somehow they had drifted closer and the cool calm that fell over him seemed strange given the situation. He remembered his first kiss with Alya; how nervous and bumbling he was. 

“You’re in love with the sea,” Félix whispered, torn and aching. Nino could feel the brush of the words on his lips. 

“I can love you both,” he murmured back. 

Félix huffed a quiet laugh. “You’ll always pick her over me.” 

“You say that like you wouldn’t,” Nino returned. The ones on the  _ Lady Luck _ were either from the sea or in love with it, either way they would always come back to it, the both of them were no exception. 

Félix looked at him sadly. 

“But I want to try this anyway,” Nino confessed, his eyes flicked up to Félix’s, staring at him. “If you don’t I - ” 

“I do,” Félix murmured in the space between them, like a promise. 

Nino answered him by closing the distance between them. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


In the coming years he was with the crew of the  _ Lady Luck _ as often as he was away from them, changing ships when he so desired, occasionally spending a month or two on land when he had coin to spend, though never straying far from the sea. 

As the time passed he found that he could hardly recognize himself in the mirror. His skin was a darker shade from his time in the sun and, although he shaved as often as he could, the stubble on his face seemed to be a permanent feature. Salt was a constant taste on his tongue and his lean arms hid an iron strength born from long hours of work. He knew how to sail as well as the best of them and could read the stars better than his own writing. 

He finally gathered the courage to pay a visit to his parents and met his two-year-old brother. In the end they were accepting, though they could not fully understand his decision to leave. He did not fully understand it himself even after the years. 

He remained with them for a month before the sea began calling to him as it always did and he left promising to write as often as he could, feeling lighter than he had in years, welcoming the spray of saltwater on his face as he returned to the sea.

Félix wasn’t always there when he returned to the  _ Lady Luck _ , nor was Adrien, or Claude, or Luka, or Alya, or any of them really. Sometimes they were there, sometimes they were not, he got used to it. The Captain was really the only constant and he did his best to keep her company when Félix and Alya were not there to do so. She would even join him during his nights on deck occasionally, content to simply sit and listen to him play. 

He respected his Captain, but he also held her very dear to his heart. She seemed to have a great weight on her shoulders no one but her knew of at times, the burden of secrets making her seem older than she was. 

And if she looked just as young as the day they first set foot on the ship, well… none of the crew felt the need to mention it. 

  
  
  
  


Nino sat on the deck, back leaning against the mast, playing his worn fiddle softly, staring up at the stars and listening to the waves that had called him so strongly before and wondered - just a little - what it might’ve been like if he had chosen differently. If, that night, he turned his back on the Captain who had offered him a place on his ship. If he had returned home to Alya, climbed back into bed and dreamed away the feeling of restlessness. 

  
He would see his family every day instead of every other year, be around to better know his little brother, married to Alya, maybe even have children of his own. A perfect life really, one free of storms and crashing waves and churning depths and singing that took away your very soul, and yet… 

He couldn’t imagine himself living such a life. 

He was lonely sometimes, yes, even amongst the crew of the  _ Lady Luck, _ surrounded by others that loved the sea. Without Félix - sometimes even with Félix - the loneliness ached and reminded him of his first time on a ship, and how alone he had been. But somehow, he wouldn’t change it for the world.

He might not ever have a family like the one that, but he had the sea and the stars, the waves and his violin, the moon and the stone hanging around his neck… 

And that was enough. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> THANKS FOR READING. DROP A COMMENT IF YOU FEEL LIKE IT, TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF DUDES!


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